The classroom had been a cold mix of stone, metal, and crystal, circular gears turning slowly, imbedded in the walls. Their movement in sync with the hum of the crystals. Students shuffled to their places, whispering about the obstacle course below. In the centre, I sat alone, preferring to sit at the back did not matter when that was everyone’s preference.


    My gauntlet was resting on the desk, its intricate gears pulsing faintly. It was sleek and dangerous, but adjusted for use by cadets. I had been just a cadet, fighting to keep my place.Weeks of gruelling study: harmony, history, tactics, had drained me, leaving no time to search for answers about my fathers death. I was royally cooked! Faking nobility, endless reading into the night, when the last book my father had taught me to read was some ancient tomb about mining and before that, children’s stories. The questions had lingered, I was woefully underprepared, one misstep in my training could lead to expulsion, and my noble status was in question, teachers where asking for me to register myself formally for cadet pilot training, should I pass my preliminary exam, they had extended me a grace period, but not for long. I had Maren spreading rumours and gossip that did not help matters.


    My only reprieve had come in the sparring arena, where I could momentarily lose myself, especially when facing Corren who calmed and soothed and focused. But even these fleeting moments had felt distant lately, I hadn’t had any time to talk to Dev or much of anyone else. I was starting to feel overworked, overwhelmed and overshadowed by the weight of my struggles with the gauntlet.


    ———


    The room buzzed with the low murmur of conversations, the soft clink of metal, and the occasional hum of energy as cadets around me began activating their gauntlets. And tuning them. One red crystal powered them, a blue mind crystal I learned used the energy from the red to harmonise with the green, the third that gave the wearers body a unique sense. A sense like the gauntlet was a part of the body. We needed to assemble and disassemble it after every use as part of basic training. The teacher handing out technocratic keys for each one, that we slotted into a compartment just above the wrist. The classroom felt more like a workshop, with sleek metal tables covered in training gear, cleaning utensils, tools and crystals. It was a place of learning as much as practice, but that day, the weight of expectation had felt heavy on my shoulders.


    “Cadet Sari” officer Morgan said. Pulling me out of my thoughts. “Ready to begin?” He was a plain man, young, with something to prove.


    I had nodded slowly, swallowed hard. I hadn’t been ready for the last test, or the one before it. My gauntlet had sat in front of me, the leather and metal almost mocking me with its weight. It was a tool-but every time I tried to wield it, it felt more like a weapon, one that might slip out of control.


    Beside me, Maren had effortlessly slipped her gauntlet on, her posture perfect, her movements fluid. The faintest glint danced in her eyes as she caught my attention. Sure, now she saw me.


    “You’re falling behind” she had whispered, barely audible but cutting all the same.


    “Focus, Sari” Maren had sneered, loader for others to hear, her voice dripping with disdain. “You might want to keep up for once.”


    I had clenched my fists, trying to ignore her. The other cadets hadn’t helped either. The class was mixed, advanced with new, supposedly to create help and support, the result however was more pressure as you were inadvertently seen as competition, the gates were always looming and teachers were quick to issue collective punishments in the form of docking our evening meals. Kellan at the front of the class, had flashed me a nervous grin. Pity, encouragement.Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.


    “Alright Cadets” Professor Morgan had called out, his voice sharp and commanding. “This exercise is about harmonising your crystals with the machines. If you cant control the flow, the device will either overload and fry your key, or fail to respond. Like mind to muscle, mind to machine and like closing a fist, each crystals energy is brought together. You will not be getting spare keys today. This is a test. Harmonise or fail, you have had enough time practicing over these last weeks.


    Maren looked like a cat with a bowl of milk.


    A collective shudder passed through the class. Failure meant being sent for revaluation, or out the gate. Nobody had wanted that. They wanted ultimately to become pilots or go back to there families with pride, a badge and access to other educational directions. Some simply wanted the officer track, nobody really wanted the soldier track of a commoner. All I wanted was access to some military records, to see what life my father had led and I felt like I was getting bogged down in my own stupid made up story. Why was I pushing myself? Why pretend to be a noble at all? Honesty would be liberating, but Maren’s taunt of me not knowing anything of the laws and punishments had me flustered. I could feel her voice in my head.


    I looked around. The class had been divided into groups of two. Shit, I needed a partner again. Maren had paired off with Kellan, who had kept working. Always working. Corren was absent today. I tried to steady my nerves, but the absence of a partner had made the task feel doubly intimidating.


    “Pair up with Cadet Sari” Morgan said, pointing to a quiet boy in the back, Jordan, a rather shy but diligent student who had always kept to himself. He had given me a timid nod. I didn’t like him, not for any fault other than sharing a name too close to my brothers and having no grit, no spine. He did not have that ‘quiet strength’ I felt he tainted a memory somehow.


    I smiled weakly back at him, relieved that I wouldn’t be completely alone for the test and loathing myself for it as well. I felt his weakness was contagious. We both moved to the far side of the room, where a large machine had stood, its gears glowing faintly.


    The challenge was this: harmonise your crystals, power your gauntlet, put your gauntlet into the machine and control the little red ball. The stupid red ball again. Your partner was to catch the red ball on the other end of the machine and send it back. One complete pass and back was a success.


    Maren, of course, had already been moving with purpose, directing her energy with a flawless ease. Her gauntlet had hummed as she had effortlessly synchronised with the machine she had chosen, passing it to Kellan. He had barely managed to keep up, struggling to maintain control.


    “Try to focus Sari” Maren taunted from across the room, her voice purring. “You might want to actually make it work this time.”


    I clenched my jaw, trying to block out her words. Jordan, looking at me, had given a silent nod, trying his best to support me. Together, we both had activated the machine. I activated My gauntlet, hum made my fingers tingle, sending a tremor of energy through my arm, it was unsteady.


    Putting my gauntlet inn the machine it had sputtered at first, then lurched to life, barely. I felt the power building, but it wasn’t smooth; it was jagged, erratic. Jordan shot me a concerned look as sparks shot from the side of the machine.


    I can do this I thought to myself with gritted teeth.


    I tried again, power forced into the machine. But it had been too late. The machine had shuddered, overloaded by an unpredictable surge, and with a deafening sucking sound, it had collapsed, it looked like someone had taken a pickaxe to the side. I certainly lacked fineness.


    Maren laughed softly from her corner.


    My face burned with embarrassment, and I quickly deactivated my gauntlet. Jordan, who had tried to help, had been shaking his head in defeat. Then curiously he claimed responsibility, spoke to officer Morgan and exited the classroom. Morgan seemed deeply displeased and simply said, curtly “Out the gate then.” I was in luck, maybe some had no desire for military life? Morgan looked at me, then out to the others “class, we are going on a little trip to the lower levels, those of you who have passed will get to hone your skill a little further, and those of you who have not exactly succeeded this round, will get to try again. The principles are the same, in practice” he bit out the last words.